A Knight of Honor (45 page)

S
lane fought back the urge to call after Taylor as she fled the Great Hall; he fought back the urge to race after her and pull her into his arms and shield her from all the horrors his brother had brought upon her and was yet to bring upon her.
 
The feelings he felt for her grew stronger every time he saw her, every time he stood near her.
 
And now the emptiness he felt in his heart when she was not with him, when he couldn’t smell the essence of her or hear the melody of her sweet voice, grew deeper and darker.
 
It was a gaping hole in his soul that needed to be filled.
 
And Taylor Sullivan was the only one who could fill it.

“Slane darling, are you all right?”

Slane turned to Elizabeth and realized he knew what he had to do.
 
But he also knew it wasn’t going to be easy.
 
He took Elizabeth’s hands in his own.
 
“We need to talk,” he said quietly.

“What is it?” she wondered.

“Come,” he whispered, leading her out of the Great Hall and into a small antechamber.

Her brows furrowed.
 
“Have I done something?” she wondered, her lips curving downward.

He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully.
 
He didn’t want to hurt her.
 
Yet, he knew she would be hurt.
 
“Elizabeth,” he began.

She grasped his hand tightly.
 
“I’m sorry for whatever it is I’ve done.”

“No,” Slane said and there was agony in his voice.
 
He slid his hand from hers.
 
He saw the confusion in her large brown eyes.
 
“You’ve done nothing.”
 
And that was the truth.
 
“I can’t lie to you, Elizabeth.
 
I just can’t...”
 
He raked a hand through his hair.
 
Then he sighed and drew himself up with resolve.
 
“I wish to continue our friendship, truly I do.
 
But I cannot marry you.”

“What?” she managed to gasp.

“I don’t love you,” Slane told her gently.

She fell back onto the seat near the window.
 
“You did,” she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No.
 
What I felt for you was a great fondness.
 
I felt protective.
 
But I was never in love.
 
When my father ordered us to wed, he never asked me for my approval.”

“Nor was I consulted,” she agreed.

He knelt before her, desperation washing over him.
 
“Then you know how I feel.”

“No,” she retorted.
 
“It’s true that I didn’t love you at first.
 
But you’re kind and noble, and I can’t see myself marrying anyone else.
 
I don’t want to!”

“That’s not love,” Slane insisted, rising, pacing before her.
 
“Love is this feeling that you would give anything for another.
 
You would climb to the moon and steal the stars from the sky if she asked it.
 
You want to shelter her and protect her, yes.
 
But it’s more than that.
 
When you walk into a room, she is the first one you look for.
 
Her laughter brightens your day, and when she is hurt, you are, too.
 
It’s the warm feeling that fills your soul when she is near.
 
A mere touch of her hand sends you to your knees with wanting.”
 
He turned to Elizabeth and saw her lidded eyes, her back as straight as a board.
 
She knew.

“You love someone else,” she stated.

Slane heard the mixture of pain and resentment in her voice.
 
He met her stare and nodded.

“It’s that girl.
 
It’s the Sullivan girl.”

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth.
 
I’m sorry to hurt you like this.
 
But you’re a bright, beautiful woman.
 
Your father will find someone more deserving than I.”

“She’s betrothed to Richard, Slane,” Elizabeth argued.
 
“What future will there be for the two of you?”

Slane remained quiet.
 
This was one of the many questions he had asked of himself.
 
He just didn’t know the answer yet.

“I’ll wait for you,” Elizabeth proclaimed.

Slane shook his head.
 
“It isn’t fair to you,” he said.
 
“And I won’t ask that of you.
 
I won’t have you do that to yourself.
 
You must continue with your life.”

“You’ll come back to me,” she said softly.
 
“When you can’t have her, you’ll come back.”

“Please, Elizabeth,” Slane said.
 
“For your own good, find another lord who will look after you.
 
Find another husband.”

Tears entered her eyes and Slane turned away.
 
He paused at the hallway.
 
“I’m sorry this had to happen to you, Elizabeth.
 
I truly did not mean to hurt you.”

“Your honor!” she exploded in a husky, tear-filled voice.
 
“How can you break your word?”

Slane felt his back straightening.
 
“That is why I am telling you.
 
So you are not disgraced.
 
I am leaving your honor intact.”

“What about your honor?” she pressed.

“It was my father’s word that I would marry you.
 
Not mine,” he said and rounded the corner, leaving her alone in her misery.

It was for the best, he told himself.
 
He couldn’t be married to a woman he didn’t love.
 
It wouldn’t be fair to her.
 
He was sure he had done the right thing.

***

Taylor moved back into the castle, formulating what she would say when she confronted Richard.
 
She noticed two guards near the doorway as she entered.
 
One was shuffling his feet, staring down at them as if inspecting his boots for some defect.
 
The other guard was staring directly at her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

Taylor’s eyes narrowed.
 
She had seen these same two guards near her room and when she had first entered the castle.
 
They were following her!
 
Ah, God!
 
She closed her eyes in exasperation.
 
If she hadn’t been so distracted, believing Slane would get her out of her current predicament, she would have noticed these two imbeciles immediately.

She moved up to the two men.
 
As she approached, the one staring at his shoes looked up.
 
She could see the reluctance in his gaze.
 
He didn’t want to be doing this.
 
She smiled at them.
 
“How you doing, boys?”
 
They exchanged uneasy glances and Taylor continued.
 
“Where is your lord?”

“I believe he is in the solar,” the one who had been looking for the defect in his boot answered.

“And where is that?”

They gave her directions, and she set off, noticing that the guards trailed her at a short distance, making no effort to be discreet.

Taylor moved past the Great Hall and couldn’t help but glance in.
 
Her steps faltered as she noticed that Slane and Elizabeth were gone.
 
A squeezing pain tore through her chest at the thought.
 
She felt an overwhelming grief well up inside her.
 
Who am I kidding? she wondered.
 
He belongs with her.
 
In her world.
 
He is a lord.
 
A knight.
 
He could never fit into my world.
 
And I don’t want him to, she told herself firmly.

But she knew that was a lie.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the waves of grief that coursed through her.
 
Slane had manipulated her, even going so far as to make love to her to get her to Castle Donovan.
 
To Richard.

She forced herself to take a step.
 
And then another.
 
All her life she had depended on Jared.
 
It was time she depended on herself.
 
She concentrated on the confrontation that was coming.
 
She was good at concentrating.
 
She could focus on a job and bury her feelings.
 
She had for eight years.

Then why was her throat closing?
 
Why couldn’t she push her pain aside?

She followed a set of spiral steps upward, taking one laborious step after another.
 
She thought of Slane’s smile, his touch, his protection.
 
She had become accustomed to them.
 
She even looked forward to seeing his warm blue eyes.
 
She wondered if he knew how they sparkled in the moonlight.
 
Other images and feelings crowded her thoughts.
 
The glorious golden wave of hair that crowned his head.
 
His strong, masculine features.
 
The chiseled lines that held soft lips within their ruggedness.
 
The feel of his body, his hot kiss.

She faltered in the middle of the stairway, gripping the wall for support.
 
God’s blood! she thought.
 
I have heard women talk of these things.
 
Ridiculous women.
 
Women who professed to be in love.
 
But there is no such thing as love, so I thought for sure these were nothing more than the expressions of lust.
 
But it’s such a strong feeling!
 
The strongest feeling I have ever known, she realized.
 
Can lust be so invigorating and paralyzing at the same time?
 
Or is there more to my feelings than some animalistic urge to share another night of love with Slane?

She heard the clang of armor in the stairway below her.
 
The guards.
 
She began to move again.
 
Her hands trembled; her mouth was dry.
 
No, no, she told herself over and over.
 
This isn’t possible.
 
There is no such thing as love.
 
It’s merely lust.
 
Nothing more.
 
A physical need.
 
Nothing more than that.
 
Please let it be nothing more than that.

She reached the top of the stairs and took a deep breath to steady her confused emotions.
 
It didn’t work.
 
Her hands continued to shake, and the last drop of moistness in her mouth evaporated into nothingness.
 
She began the slow walk down a long, unfamiliar hallway.

Had Slane run through these hallways as a child, laughing, chasing his brother?
 
She cursed him quietly.
 
How could she hope to stand before Richard and denounce their betrothal when all she could think about was Slane?
 
Slane, who was betrothed to another woman.

The thought of Slane touching Elizabeth as he had touched her, stroking her, kissing her lips, sent agony spearing through her body like an arrow.
 
She began to pace to try to clear her mind.
 
Was she a fool?
 
How had this happened?
 
She prided herself on her detached feelings, on the carefully hidden emotions she had buried long ago.
 
How could she have let a noble find them?
 
How could she have let a noble release them?